


Espectacle no inclòs

by kiki_92



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Walks On The Beach, gratuitous use of spanish
Language: Català
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-12 23:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20164036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/pseuds/kiki_92
Summary: Durant una missió a Eivissa, en Bandit i en Jäger acaben en una situació compromesa... Aquesta història es part de l'event d'idiomes de DualRainbow al Tumblr!CHAPTER 2 IS THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [DualRainbow](https://dualrainbow.tumblr.com/)'s language event, I'll try to upload a translation into English in the next few days.
> 
> És la primera vegada que escric una història en català desde que estava a l'institut, i la veritat es que es nota que estic oxidada. Si, aquest fic és una mica un desastre, però que hi farem xD

L’hotel era el que qualsevol persona imaginaria al escoltar les paraules  _ Eivissa  _ i  _ festa  _ juntes a la mateixa frase. Es deia “La Perla Blanca”, encara que no hi havia decoració o motius de perles enlloc. La principal atracció era la terrassa amb la piscina. El soroll eixordador de la música es sentia com un impacte físic, cada mil·límetre de l’espai disponible ple de gent ballant o bevent alcohol. Hi havia sofàs and bancs a cada racó, un simulacre de privacitat per aquelles persones que venien buscant un tipus molt concret de diversió. En Bandit estaria encantat d’estar aquí si no estigués treballant. 

Mentre tothom al seu voltant es divertia, ell estava immers en una operació antiterrorista. L’amenaça d’un possible attack al cor de la festiva illa Mediterranea no era poca broma. En aquest moment, en Bandit buscava a una certa persona, sortejant la riuada de gent que sortia i entrava a la piscina, o els que ballaven al ritme de la música electrònica. On collons s’havia ficat en Jäger? Solament s’havien separat per uns segons, i ara en Bandit no el trobava enlloc. 

Algú va col·lionsar amb en Bandit, i de sobte es va trobar cara a cara amb una dona que no parava de riure. Estava tan beguda que era impossible entendre el que digué, així que en Bandit la va ignorar i continuà buscant al seu company. No era que estigués preocupat per en Jäger, l’enginyer era capaç de cuidar-se tot sol, però era com si de sobte hagués desaparegut com per art de màgia. Tampoc contestava a les comunicacions generals, i tot hi que no havien trobat cap indici d’activitat il·licita encara, estaven buscant terroristes… qui sabia el que podria haver passat.

Continuà obrint-se pas entre la gent, a l’aguait del seu company o de qualsevol persona que es veiés sospitosa. Un petit grup de cinc paios va captar la seva atenció. A l’apropar-se a ells, el més alt del grup el va estudiar amb la mirada durant uns segons abans d’assentir amb el cap.

“Vols probar algo diferent? Els millors preus de l’illa, garantit!” L’oferta venia acompanyada pel flaix d’una bossa de plàstic plena de pastilles de differents colors.

Prenent nota mental dels paios, en bandit va declinar l’oferta i continuà buscant. No havien vingut aquí a detenir traficants, pero no estaria de més passar la informació a les forces locals. Parlant com algù que havia passat droga com part del seu treball, aquests paios eren una desgràcia, absoluts aficionats. No obstant, estava clar que no tenien res a veure amb l’absència d’en Jäger, així que en Bandit continuà cercant. Finalment acceptà la derrota i va enviar un missatge a la resta de companys:

“No trobo a en Jäger, algú de vosaltres l’ha vist?”

_ _ _

L’auricular va crepitar i la IQ sospirà a l’escoltar el missatge d’en Bandit. Ni que fos un nen de cinc anys, com podia estar perdut? Ella i la Dokkaebi van compartir una mirada d’exasperació, mentre la Coreana prenia un glop del seu còctel i s’encongia d’espatlles.

“No està aquí, ni tampoc l’he vist anar al pis d’amunt,” va informar la IQ. Elles havien romangut al Saló de l’Alba tota la nit, parlant amb la gent i passant una bona estona, i també vigilant el passadís que connectava amb les escales cap al pis d’amunt. “Has provat a trucar-lo?”

_ “No contesta.” _

Això no era bona senyal. Només tingué que mirar a la Dokkaebi per un segon amb ulls de be degollat, i la Coreana ja estava comprovant les imatges de les càmeras de seguretat. Mirant per sobre de les seves espatlles, la IQ aviat va detectar quelcom sospitós. 

“Aquí, torna una enrere.”

La qualitat de la imatge era pèssima i granulada, però era evident que la situació no era del tot normal: dos homes vestits exactament igual descarregaven caixes d’un cotxe sense matrícula, i aquest estava aparcat en un lateral de l’entrada principal, lluny de la resta de vehicles. 

“Activitat sospitosa al lateral de l’entrada principal, direcció sud-oest,” la Dokkaebi va avisar pel canal de comunicacions generals. 

_

Malgrat el seu menyspreu per l’ambient, en Thatcher podria dir que gairebé s’estava divertint. Què carai, s’ho estava passant collonudament. La música estava massa forta, però poder jugar al billar compensava sobradament les molèsties. La beguda també era fantàstica.

L'únic inconvenient era la gentada que s’apinyava al seu voltant. Mai s’hauria imaginat que tantes noies joves coquetejarien amb ell, o que tants homes de certa edat s'ofereixerien a invitar-lo a una copa. Alguns d’ells fins it tot el varen seguir cap al bar quan va deixar de jugar. Per sort, en Thermite conseguí lliurar-se dels ploms quan va seure a la falda d’en Thatcher. Una solució poc ortodoxa, però efectiva.

“Ja s’han marxat,” assenyalà en Thatcher. La resposta d’en Thermite va ser un simple “ _ Ho sé, _ ” i després es va posar còmode a sobre seu, bevent de la seva copa com si la situació fos del tot normal. En Thatcher sospirà. “Aixeca’t, m'estàs aixafant els genolls.”

“Però no hi ha cap altre seient disponible.”

Just en aquell moment, va arribar el missatge de la Dokkaebi, la seva veu alta i clara a través de l’auricular:  _ “Activitat sospitosa al lateral de l’entrada principal, direcció sud-oest.” _

L’Americà el va mirar amb els ulls oberts com plats i s’aixecà per córrer cap al balcó. Des d’aquí podien veure parcialment l’àrea indicada, però estava massa fosc per poder discernir ho que estava passant. En Thermite va donar la seva copa a en Thatcher i saltà balcó avall, caient a la terrassa de sota i espantant a la gent que passava per allà. Abans de que en Thatcher pogués dir res, en Thermite tornà a saltar, afortunadament va arribar al terra sense trencar-se un os. Maleït Americà, sempre cridant l’atenció.

“Estem en camí. Que tothom es mantingui a les seves posicions,” ordenà en Thatcher.

En lloc de saltar pel balcó, he va anar al passadís i va prendre les escales com una persona normal. Va arribar alhora que en Thermite, que venia coixejant. Entre tots dos tenien als sospitosos acorralats, però tan aviat com s’adonaren de la seva presència, varen començar a córrer com si els empaites el diable. Un d’ells va empentar a en Thermite, fent-lo caure miraculosament a sobre del seu company a la fuga.

“Bona parada,” en Thatcher l’ajudà a aixecar-se del terra, immobilitzant al sospitós. “Objectiu a la fuga, direcció sud-oest.”

No hi havia raó per córrer darrere del pròfug, no quan tenien companys estratègicament dispersos arreu del local. A més, volia comprobar el contingut de les caixes que havien descarregat.

_ 

La IQ ja estava a la terrassa exterior, buscant senyals d’en Jäger, quan va arribar el missatge d’en Thatcher: “Objectiu a la fuga, direcció sud-oest.”

Això volia dir que el pròfug anava cap a les ruïnes. Ella i la Dokkaebi eren les persones més properes a aquella zona, juntament amb en Bandit que estava a l’àrea de la piscina. La Dokkaebi segurament va pensar el mateix, ja que començà a caminar en direcció a les ruïnes, la IQ seguint-la ben d’aprop.

Un home vingué corrent en direcció a l’àrea de les ruïnes, fins que es va parar de sobte, mirant a una certa direcció i posant-se blanc com un fantasma. S’ha d'admetre que la visió d’en Bandit causava una certa esgarrifança, ja que tenia cara d'estar disposat a arrencar-li les extremitats si deia quelcom que no li agradés.

El sospitós va arrencar a córrer una altre vegada, ensopegant amb els seus propis peus en la seva desesperació per evitar al Alemany amb cara de pocs amics. No va veure a les altres dues persones apropant-se a ell, i va xocar amb la Dokkaebi, qui el va tirar a terra, immobilitzant-lo. La IQ ràpidament li va posar les manilles.

“El tenim,” va informar la Dokkaebi pel canal de comunicacions general, per a que la resta de l’equip sapigués que la situació estava resolta.   
_

Tècnicament, la missió ja havia acabat. En Thatcher els havia encomanat a tots de mantenir les posicions, per si un cas, però la veritat era que ja havien atrapat als sospitosos. En Thermite estava documentant els materials de les caixes, que suposadament servirien per fabricar explosius. Només faltava esperar a les forces locals per a que s’emportessin als detinguts.

En Bandit encara estava donant voltes, buscant. Al final, quan començava a estar preocupat de veritat, el va veure. En Jäger havia saltat el mur de la finca i s’havia enfilat a les roques que envoltaven l’hotel, i estava mirant a tot arreu com si busqués a algú. Sembla ser que el buscava a ell, ja que al veure'l va somriure i saludar movent els braços.

“Dom! Em van empentar a la piscina i vaig tenir que pescar el meu auricular del fons de la piscina, ja no funciona. Quan vaig sortir no trobava a ningú de l’equip,” va explicar en Jäger, clarament irritat.

Era comprensible, i a més una explicació de perquè estava moll com un ànec i regalimant aigua. No obstant, no explicava que hi feia pujat ahí. “No siguis ximple, baixa d’aquí abans de que rellisquis.”

“Hi ha unes escales aquí, entre les roques,” diguè en Jäger, com si fos suficient explicació. “M’ha semblat veure una figura avall a la platja, podria ser el nostre sospitós.”

En Bandit podria explicar-li que la missió havia acabat, però anar a explorar la platja sonava molt més interessant que esperar de braços creuats. A més, si algú preguntava, sempre podia explicar que en Jäger deia haver vist algú, i no era descabellat pensar que els sospitosos arrestats tingueren algun còmplice.

Les escales eren poc més que uns desgastats travessers, gairbé coberts per la sorra i perillosament relliscosos. La platja era una banda de sorra no gaire gran, que vorejava les roques que l’envoltaven i finalment arribava a un far. No hi havia allà ningú més excepte ells dos, tal i com en Bandit s’havia imaginat.

“Al terra, veig a algú!” digué en Bandit tan dramàticament come era possible, tirant a en Jäger a terra i cobrint-lo amb el seu cos. Després de mirar de reüll cap a on en Bandit havia senyalat, en Jäger va expressar la seva confusió, ja que evidentment no hi havia ningú. “Qué dius, jo el veig clarament: alt, té un parell de cicatrius… de vegades és una mica capullo, però és part del seu encant.”

“Ja-ja, que divertit,” en Jäger li va donar un amistós cop de puny al braç i va intentar desfer-se d’en Bandit, tirar-lo de sobre seu. Una gran onada trencà contra les roques, cobrint-los per un segon i deixant a tot dos calats fins als ossos.

“La mare que el va…! Aquesta és la meva jaqueta preferida!” La indignació d’en Bandit va fer somriure a en Jäger. Era injust que l’enginyer es veiés tan atractiu quan estava tot xop, amb el cabell pegat al front i ple de sorra.

Encisat, en Bandit es va apropar encara més, fins que els seus llavis, queden, inevitablement, un al davant de l'altre. En Jäger alçà la ma, passejant els dits suaument per la tosca barba d’en Bandit. Aquell petit gest va posar a en Bandit a mil, potser perquè era el que en Jäger sempre feia quan estaven arraulits al llit després d’una intensa sessió de sexe. Impacient, en Bandit s’hi va abocar, assaborint els llavis del seu company. I en Jäger, en lloc de intentar tirar-lo de sobre seu com abans, li va mossegar el llavi inferior suaument, enroscant els braços al voltant seu.

Encara besant-se, en Bandit descordà els pantalons d’en Jäger, apretant les seves cuixes per sobre dels texans abans de tocar la seva creixent erecció, notant com es posava més i més dur amb cada caricia. Els dits de l’enginyer s’estaven barallant amb el botó dels pantalons d’en Bandit, fins que ell parà un moment per ajudar-lo.

“Potser no hauríem de fer això mentres estem de missió, no?”

Ah, ja... no l’hi havia dit encara que la missió ja havia acabat. Però en lloc de dir res, en Bandit va moure el seu cos contra el d’en Jäger, seguint un ritme que accelerava poc a poc, augmentant la fricció amb cada nova empenta. Les onades llepaven les seves cames mentres l’excitació de tots dos creixia i es besaven desesperadament. Estaven tan embadalits l’un amb l’altre, que cap d’ells es va adonar de les dues figures que s’aproximaven per la platja.

“Me cago en la leche con los putos guiris! Por qué siempre nos encontramos a alguno con los pantalones bajados? Cada noche, joder!”

Dos policies estaven plantats davant seu, mirant-los amb cara d’exasperació. Cap d’ells entenia el que acabaven de dir, però en Bandit suposava que tenia a veure amb la posició en que els havien trobat.

“Yo policía. GSG-9.” en Bandit intentà comunicar als agents amb el poc castellà que sabia, però la seva declaració els va fer riure.

“Si claro, y yo soy el rey de España. Que graciosillo el tío este!”

Pausadament, en Bandit explicà la situació, que estaven en una operació especial i els seus companys podien verificar la seva història. Però els policies no semblaven entendre l’anglès massa bé.

“No me vengas con historias baratas, hombre ya! Cubríos las vergüenzas que la gente del restaurante en el faro estará harta del espectáculo, y andando a comisaría. Estáis detenidos por indecencia pública.”

Separant-se d’en Jäger i pujant-se els pantalons, en Bandit ja estava rumiant a qui dels seus companys podria trucar per a que els tragués d'aquest embolic. La seva primera opció era el seu amic Thermite, qui es faria un fart de riure amb la situació però l’ajudaria gustosament. A més, era de Texas, segur que parlava una mica d'Español, no? L’únic problema era que seu auricular no semblava funcionar, ja que cada vegada que intentava comunicar-se amb algú, només escoltava estàtica. Merda. Ara recordava, una mica massa tard, que l’auricular d’en Jäger havia deixat de funcionar al mullar-se, i tots dos havien acabat xops d’aigua de mar quan els va cobrir aquella onada. Quina merda d'equipament. Semblava que la seva única opció era seguir als policies i contactar amb els seus companys desde comissaria.

_

Una hora més tard, la IQ va arribar amb els identificadors dels dos ximples, intentant convèncer als agents que no era broma, que de veritat eren part del GSG-9 i estaven allí de missió. Va costar una estona, però al final la situació acabà resolta satisfactòriament.

La cara de pomes agres de la IQ deixava ben clar ho poc contenta que estava amb ells, encara que no va dir ni una paraula. Com vàren comprobar be aviat, ella s’estava callant perquè la bronca que els va caure per part d’en Thatcher va ser épica. No hi havia dubte que es mereixien la bronca, però si en Bandit s'en penedia d0alguna cosa, era que no havien pogut acabar abans de que els descobrissin i s'havien quedat amb les ganes.


	2. English version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep the translation as faithful to the original as possible, so you can appreciate this in all its full silliness xD

The hotel was everything anyone could imagine when hearing the words  _ Ibiza  _ and  _ party  _ together in the same sentence. La Perla Blanca, it was called, even if there were no pearl motives anywhere in sight. The main attraction was the huge terrace with a pool right in the middle of it. The music was so loud it felt almost like a physical blow, and almost every available space was packed with people, most of them holding some type of alcoholic drink. Couches and nooks for making out were around every corner, a simulacrum of privacy for the people who came here looking for a certain type of entertainment. Bandit would love to be here, if he wasn’t working, of course. 

While everyone around him had fun, he was in a counter-terrorism operation. The threat of a possible attack in the heart of the Mediterranean party island wasn’t to be taken lightly. He was searching for a certain person, wading through the waves of half naked people coming in and out of the pool, dancing to the loud beats of electronic music. Just where the hell was Jäger? They got separated for a second and now Bandit couldn’t find the engineer.

Someone bumped into him, and Bandit found himself face to face with a giggling woman. She was so drunk that it was impossible to understand her, so he ignored her and continued looking, searching for a familiar face. Bandit wasn’t exactly worried for Jäger, the engineer was a grown man and knew how to take care of himself, but he couldn’t have vanished, could he? He wasn’t answering to the comms either, and while they hadn’t seen traces of illicit activity yet, they were looking for terrorists… who knew what could have happened.

He continued making his way through the mass of people, looking both for his missing partner and anyone who looked suspicious. A small group of five dudes caught his attention. When he got closer to them, the tallest of them assessed Bandit from head to toe then he nodded approvingly.

“Wanna try something different? Best prices on the island, guaranteed!” The offer came accompanied by a flash of a small plastic bag full of differently coloured pills.

Mentally taking note of the guys, Bandit declined and continued with his search. They weren’t here to bust dealers, but it never hurt to pass that information along. As someone who dealt in the past, these guys were terrible at it, absolute amateurs. However, it was clear they had nothing to do with Jäger’s sudden absence, so Bandit continued searching. Eventually, he accepted defeat and opened the comms.

“I can't find Jäger, can any of you see him?”

_ _ _

The earpiece crackled and Bandit’s message made IQ sigh. Jäger wasn’t a five year old kid, how could he be lost? She shared an exasperated look with Dokkaebi, who sipped her fruity cocktail and shrugged.

“He’s not here, nor did I saw him go upstairs,” IQ informed. Dokkaebi and her had been on the Sunrise lounge all night long, blending with the crowd and keeping an eye on the corridor that connected with the stairs to the second floor. “Did you call him?”

_ “He’s not answering.” _

That wasn’t good. She threw a pleading look at Dokkaebi, and the next second the Korean was already on her phone, checking the feed of the security cameras. IQ peered at the screen from over Dokkaebi’s shoulder, until she saw something that caught her attention.

“There, go one back.”

The grainy quality of the image was awful, but it was obvious something fishy was going on: two guys who dressed identical were unloading crates from a car without plates, which was parked aside from the other cars lined up at the entry. IQ and Dokkaebi shared a look. Jäger would have to wait, this could be what they were here to stop.

“Suspicious activity by the side of the main entrance, south-east,” Dokkaebi said through the comms. 

_

Despite his distaste for the general ambience, Thatcher could say he was almost having fun. Scratch that, he was having a blast. As annoying and loud as the music was, being able to play pool compensated for a lot. The drinks were fantastic too.

The only downside was the audience he had gathered. Thatcher never imagined he'd have so many young women fawning over him, or older gentlemen ready to buy him another drink. Some of them didn’t have any problems following him into the lounge when he stopped playing. Luckily, Thermite managed to get rid of the pests following Thatcher when he sat on his lap. An unorthodox solution, but it worked. 

“They’re gone,” Thatcher pointed out, to which Thermite only said  _ “I know” _ and got comfortable on his lap, taking a sip of his drink. Thatcher sighed. “Get off, you’re killing my knees.”

“But there’s no other seat available.”

Right at that moment the general comms came alive, Dokkaebi’s voice ringing clearly:  _ “Suspicious activity by the side of the main entrance, south-east.”. _

The American looked at him with wide eyes, and then he got up and ran to the balcony. From there they could partially see the indicated area, but it was too dark and too far away to be able to discern what was going on. Pushing his glass into Thatcher’s hand, Thermite then jumped out of the balcony, landing on the terrace below and startling the people down there. Before Thatcher could even caution him against it, Thermite jumped from the side of the terrace as well, hopefully landing on the ground without breaking a bone. Damned flashy American.

“We’re on the way. Everyone else hold positions,” Thatcher instructed.

He went to the corridor and took the stairs, like a normal person. He arrived at the same time that a limping Thermite, closing into the suspects from opposing sides. As soon as the guys noticed their presence, they started running like the devil was after them. Thermite was pushed by one of the suspects and stumbled, miraculously landing on top of the other.

“Good catch,” Thatcher helped Thermite up, immobilizing the suspect against the ground. “Objective on the run, south-west direction.”

No need to run after the bastard when they had operators strategically posted around the place. Besides, he wanted to see what was on those crates they had been unloading from the car.

_

IQ was already on the exterior terrace, anxiously looking around for a sign of where Jäger could be, when Thatcher sent the message,  _ “Objective on the run, south-west direction.” _

That meant the runaway objective was coming towards the ruins. She and Dokkaebi were the closest, along with Bandit, who was on the pool area. The Korean woman must have thought the same, since she started walking towards the ruins area, IQ following her.

A man came running and suddenly stopped, looking at a certain direction and becoming white as a ghost. IQ had to admit that the sight of Bandit getting closer and closer was pretty scary, especially since he looked ready to tear the guy to pieces if he so much as sneezed.

The suspect ran again, stumbling with his own feet in his haste to get away from the scary German, and thus didn’t see the other pair closing in on him. He almost crashed into Dokkaebi, but she threw him to the ground, immobilising him. IQ expertly slapped the handcuffs on him. 

“We have him,” Dokkaebi informed through a general channel, letting everyone know the alert was over. 

_

Technically speaking, the mission was over. Thatcher may had recommended them all to remain in their positions until the end of the night, just in case, but they already caught the bad guys. Thermite was even cataloguing the content of the boxes, which supposedly would serve to create explosives. It was just a matter of waiting for the local forces to come and take away the detained men.

Bandit was still wandering around, searching. Then, when he was starting to be worried for real, he saw him. Jäger had jumped over the fence and climbed the rocks surrounding the hotel, and was looking around as if he was searching for someone. Turns out, he was looking for him, since he smiled brightly upon seeing Bandit and waved his arms. 

“Dom! I was pushed into the pool and had to fish out my earpiece from the bottom, it doesn’t work anymore. When I got out I couldn’t find anyone from the squad,” Jäger explained, sounding irritated. 

Well, it was understandable, and it explained why he was dripping wet. However, it didn’t explain why he was up there. “Don’t be an idiot, get down before you lose your footing.”

“There are stairs here, between the rocks,” Jäger said, as if it explained everything. “I saw a figure in the beach there, thought it could be our suspect.”

Bandit could have told him the mission was over, but exploring the small beach sounded way more interesting than waiting without doing anything. Besides, if anyone asked, he could say Jäger had seen someone and it wasn’t that far fetched to think their suspects could have an accomplice, right?

The stairs were nothing more than some eroded wooden steps, mostly covered in sand and treacherously slippery. The beach itself was a thin stripe of sand bordering the rock walls, and eventually connecting to a lighthouse. There was nobody there aside from them, as Bandit already expected. 

“Get down, I see someone!” Bandit dramatically proclaimed before he tackled Jäger to the ground, covering the engineer’s body with his. After looking over Bandit’s shoulder, Jäger stated his confusion over the lack of any figure. Bandit smirked down at him. “What do you mean, I see him clearly: tall, has some scars… Can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but that’s part of his charm.”

“Very funny, ha-ha,” Jäger hit him on the arm and tried to dislodge Bandit from being on top of him. A tall wave crashed against the rocks, covering them for a second and leaving them sopping wet.

“Son of a…! This is my favorite jacket!” Bandit’s indignation made Jäger grin. It was unfair that he looked so good when he was dripping with water, hair plastered to his forehead and full of wet sand.

As if spellbound, Bandit got even closer, until their lips were almost touching. Jäger raised his hands, trailing his fingers over Bandit’s rough beard, caressing it. That little gesture aroused Bandit even further, maybe because it was what Jäger usually did when they were cuddling in bed after a mindblowing fuck. Impatient, Bandit took his partner’s lips, tasting them as if it was the first time. Instead of trying to push him away as before, Jäger gently bit his lower lip and put his arms around Bandit.

Still kissing each other, Bandit opened Jäger’s jeans and squeezed his thighs before palming the growing erection, feeling how it got bigger and harder with each of his touches. The engineer was struggling to open the button of Bandit’s trousers, until he stopped to help him. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this while we’re on a mission, don’t you think?”

Oh, yeah… he hadn’t told Jäger the mission was over. However, instead of answering, Bandit moved his body against Jäger’s, following a quickening pace, increasing the friction with every thrust. The waves licked their legs as their lust grew and they kissed each other with desperation. They were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice the two figures walking along the beach, approaching them.

“Me cago en la leche con los putos guiris! Por qué siempre nos encontramos a alguno con los pantalones bajados? Cada noche, joder!”

Two police officers stood in front of them, looking down at them with an exasperated expression. Neither Bandit nor Jäger understood what they just said, but Bandit was willing to bet it had to do something with their current position.

"Yo policía. GSG9,” he tried to communicate using what little Spanish he knew, but his words made them laugh.

“Si claro, y yo soy el rey de España. Que graciosillo el tío este!”

Very slowly, Bandit explained the situation, that they were part of a counter-terrorist operation and their companion could verify their identities and the whole story, but the officers didn’t seem to understand much English.

“No me vengas con historias baratas, hombre ya! Cubríos las vergüenzas que la gente del restaurante en el faro estará harta del espectáculo, y andando a comisaría. Estáis detenidos por indecencia pública.”

Scrambling away from Jäger and tucking himself back into his pants, Bandit was already mulling about which of their companions would be the best choice to call and get them out of this spot of trouble. His first choice would be his friend Thermite, who would laugh himself sick at their expense but would help them anyway. Besides, he was Texan, he had to know a bit of Spanish, right? The only problem was that his headset didn’t seem to work, since every time Bandit tried to communicate with someone, all he heard was static. Shit. Now he remembered that Jäger’s headset stopped working when he fell into the pool, and both had got plenty wet when that wave had covered them. What a shitty equipment. It seemed like their only choice was to follow the officers and contact with their teammates from the police station.

_

An hour later, IQ arrived to the precinct with the identifiers of the two idiots, trying her best to convince the police officers it wasn’t a joke, they really were part of the GSG-9 and there on a counter-terrorist operation. It took her a while, but at last the situation was successfully solved.

IQ’s sour face left no doubts of how angry she was with them, even if she said not a single word. As Bandit and Jäger soon discovered, she kept quiet because Thatcher had already prepared and epic dressing down for them. Not undeserved, but if Bandit had any regret about the whole situation, was that they didn’t have the chance to finish before they were caught and he had been feeling sexually frustrated since then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When translating it, I kept noticing how I would have written things differently if I was doing it en English, or how I would have added or not added certain details as well. Truly a fascinating insight on how I work when writing in each language.

**Author's Note:**

> You can see what I'm currently up to on [my tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/)!


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